


Of Kings and Queens

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Dadcliffe, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Male-Female Friendship, Meet-Cute, Modern Royalty, Princes & Princesses, Slow Romance, balls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma Simmons was a biochemist, she had two doctorates in the subjects but first and foremost she was a princess, to inherit a kingdom. One that was currently experiencing harsh economic problems. Its up to Jemma to balance all of these. And possibly find love along the way.</p><p>*ON INDEFINITE HIATUS*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> About a week back 2sassyformyowngood requested this, and I fell in love with it. Here it finally is! I hope you enjoy and thanks so much for the prompt and the title!

There was a knock on the door, causing Jemma to look up from the medical journal that she was currently engrossed in. Skye was standing in the doorframe, a mischievous grin on her face. Jemma sighed, and closed the book knowing that she would get little done now that Skye was about to rope her into what she called ‘bad girl shenanigans’.

“So,” Skye began, taking Jemma’s silence and her attention as the prompt to begin voicing whatever idea it was that she had aloud. “Malick is bringing Will…” At this Jemma gave a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes. She knew why Malick was bringing Will. To propose yet another marriage to her. This had been going on for nearly ten years now, beginning when she had turned eighteen. She had said no, respectfully declining, saying that her education came first. Malick, after talking to her father had accepted this but not without some underlying bitterness.

During her teenage years, Jemma had taken a master’s degree in both politics and economics, though she loathed the subjects. They held no interest to her, unlike biology and chemistry, her true passions in life. They were how she had spent her last ten years, and now she had two doctorates in them, and she was hoping that they would be good enough to help the economic crisis that was currently plaguing their kingdom. A disease was passing though, not fatal (thankfully) but rendering workers unable to work. So their industry was failing, workers unable to get out of bed most days with a pounding headache, and their muscles so very sore. They were tired, lethargic most days and they days when they symptoms weren’t as bad, very little work was still done.

Jemma wanted to help cure it, and not just for the economy. Indeed, that was the last thought on her mind. She wanted to help them because she wanted to help them. They were people, in a sense, her people. And they shouldn’t have to suffer. Painkillers and drugs were offered to help with the worst of the symptoms. But that wasn’t good enough. They weren’t doing enough. Jemma wanted to help, but her research was at a standstill. The virus caused a higher electrical charge in both the brain and the nerves, and due to that, nothing could be administered without a specific device. Something that Jemma had not yet succeeded in getting. She had, however, put out a request for help with this but as of yet there were no replies. What made it worse was that Jemma had no knowledge of how it was spreading, or where the virus initially came from.

“Jemma!” came Skye’s voice, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Did you hear what I said?”

Jemma just looked at her confused, and Skye took a breath before…

“And your dad’s throwing a ball.” Skye said quickly, getting it all out. Skye preferred this method, unlike Jemma whose methods was stumbling and stuttering over all her words. Skye said she did this as it was like ripping a plaster off: quick, and relatively painless.

Jemma was stunned into silence, something that was so very uncharacteristic of her. Her father, the King, had said nothing of this at all. It seemed like everything she had worked so hard towards would be thrown away for the sake of some money.

Well, a lot of money. An issue that Malick brought up every time that he saw Coulson. He wanted Jemma to marry his son as Jemma was the only one of royal blood that was of his age. And Malick promised the kingdom a large volume of money if that were to happen (money that would solve the problems in the short term but not in the long term) and that left her father conflicted. He wanted to ensure that his daughter was happy, he didn’t want to pressure her into something that he didn’t want but he also knew that he had a kingdom at stake. One day, he along with Jemma, would have to make a decision that would impact everyone.

And it wasn’t that she didn’t like Will. He was nice enough, but he wasn’t interesting. Not to her anyway. Anytime that they had met, he always seemed disinterested in her. He took no interest in her work, he barely talked to her and there was no connection.

And if Jemma was going to marry, she wanted someone she connected to, someone who understood her. Someone she loved. But she was yet to find that person. And sometimes she wondered if she ever would.

“So…” Skye trailed off. It was obvious that she had been saying something while Jemma had been so lost in though. “What you think?”

“Think of what?”

Skye sighed, slightly exasperated at her friend. Jemma had a tendency to zone out, her extraordinary brain thinking of who knows what. But it was one of the many reasons that she loved Jemma. “Hunter. Dress shopping. You need something for tonight.”

“It’s tonight?” Jemma asked, clearly she had missed a lot of information somewhere.

Skye nodded. “Last minute thing. Malick and Will told Coulson late last night that they were coming, everyone has been working through the night to make it work. That’s why the Great Hall was out of bounds all morning. May is coming to help get you ready but if we’re lucky, we can get there and back again before anyone knows that we’re gone.”

Jemma looked at her friend, knowing that this would get her into a world of trouble.

But she nodded.

***

When they got back, Hunter parking the car in the oversized garage, they were in a world of trouble.

Coulson, her father, caught them sneaking back into the palace, a large bag each.

The disapproving look stung, and Skye bit her lip nervously. They both knew they shouldn’t have left, Jemma especially, and not without permission.

“Where were you?” The question was one that was said in a tired tone. Ruling had put a lot of pressure on him lately, and the past twelve hours only adding to that.

“Skye and I wanted to go out for gowns for the ball, father. We’re sorry, we should have let you know.”

“But you have a dress,” he replied, this directed more at Jemma than at Skye. He rarely let Jemma out of the castle without permission from her, or her mother, despite the fact that she was nearly twenty eight now. He feared for her safety, and she supposed that he was right in a way. After what had previously happened. “From your mother’s fiftieth birthday last year.”

This caught Jemma out. She was hopeless at getting out of trouble in situations like these.

Skye, meanwhile, was perfect and managed to chime in before Jemma could give some horrendous reply. “She can’t wear the same thing twice! What do you think the press would say?”

Coulson shook his head in dismay. “Skye Daisy Johnson, you really are trouble. Why do I let you near my daughter?”

“Because she’s my good influence.” She gave a sweet smile before dragging Jemma away. Half way down the corridor she turned around and shouted back down. “We’ll see you soon!”

Coulson just shook his head again, and headed off. Malick was due to arrive soon, and the Great Hall still wasn’t ready. He had only heard the news the night before, leaving very little time for everything to be set up.

“Sir.”

The voice caused him to spin. May. Head of security. Nothing got past her without her knowing.

“Is it about Jemma and Skye?”

A brief nod was his reply. “You know?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes”

“Who was with them?”

“Hunter.”

“Armed.”

Another nod from the king. This helped to quell May’s nerves. She always thought of the two woman as her daughters, and knowing that Hunter was there, to help protect them made everything seem better, if only slightly.

“So what’s worrying you?”

“Malick. He’s planning something. Coming here, demanding a massive ball the day that he arrives.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

Coulson raised an eyebrow at her. “Do we really need to ask that question?”

***

“You look amazing.” That was all Skye could say as Jemma observed herself in the mirror. Her dress, long, flowing and a dark sea blue was amazing. She had to admit it. Skye did a great job picking it out for her.

“Thanks,” Jemma said, absentmindedly, spinning to see herself from all angles. She turned and faced Skye, plastering a fake smile on her face. Her stomach was in knots, she hadn’t felt fear like this for many years now. She could sense that something was going to happen, but she just wasn’t sure what was going to happen yet.

“You ready?” Skye asked. She loved everything like this: balls, fancy banquets, high powered guests toing and froing in the palace. However, all these were rare but Skye took what she could get.

Jemma nodded and as she headed to the door, Skye stopped her. “What?” Jemma asked, but all that Skye did was push a curl back into position. Jemma held out her hand and took it, opening the oak door to the corridor.

Her bodyguard, Bobbi was there, along with her boyfriend Hunter (who also was their driver). She nodded at Jemma. Bobbi had been handpicked by May, head of security, and her and Jemma had grown close together in the years that they had known each other. They had even had classes together at University, with Bobbi also gaining a Doctorate and a promising career in the world of biochemistry, but ultimately, her job as a bodyguard won out. Still, it didn’t mean that she had forsaken the lab altogether, and Jemma really appreciated her help.

Hunter gave them both a smile, and looped his arms through Skye’s. Though the two were not in a relationship, they always attended the events together. Bobbi rarely went to these events, and Skye always did, so Hunter tagged along with her as a friend.

Jemma tagged behind with Bobbi as they made their way down the corridor. She wouldn’t be with Jemma most of the night, she would be keeping watch with May for the majority of the night. She ran through the agenda with Jemma; her mother would present her to the crowd, she would meet with Will Daniels, they would share the opening dance to the evening, then the meal would be served, the speeches, then more dances before Coulson finally calling the night to a close.

Nothing new, and nothing unusual. But Jemma liked going over it with Bobbi, liked knowing what was going to happen, and when it was going to happen. It gave her a feel for the night, allowed her to prepare (she did excel in preparation after all).

They spend the rest of the way discussing this and found Jemma’s mother standing at the door to the huge stair case that took centre place in the Great Hall.

“Jemma,” she called out, beckoning her daughter to her and pulling her into a hug. Jemma returned the favour. Though Audrey may not have been her biological mother (whom she took her surname, Simmons, after), Jemma had known her all her life and loved her dearly. She called Audrey her mother, having never know her biological mother (who died in child birth). “You ready?”

Jemma nodded when she pulled away, and shot a glance over her shoulder. “See you down there?”

“There better be those mini sandwiches that I love tonight,” Skye shouted over her shoulder as her and Hunter headed down the corridor, finding the staircase that would take them to the courtyard just outside the Great Hall.

“A couple of minutes,” her mother said once they were alone again but there was a sadness about her smile. Jemma was about to ask, but then thought better of it. It was probably stress, today would have been stressful for everyone, and Jemma felt a rush of guilt. She should have been more help.

But just then, the announcement that beckoned them though the door came. “Princess Jemma Simmons, and her mother Queen Audrey Coulson.”

They looked at each other and nodded, before proceeding through the doors.

They paused at the stop for the crowd to take them in, lights of the cameras flashing from the few members of press that Coulson allowed in, only those who he trusted.

The mother and daughter made their way down the rest of the stairs, and Will Daniels was standing there, arm out. He was in a tux, smiling at her, and Jemma smiled back. The fear that was in her stomach had only increased, and it was not at the thought of dancing. It was that something was going to happen.

Her mother took her place at the edge of the room beside her father as Will lead her into the centre of the room. The orchestra started up, and the dance began. He took one hand in his own, and wrapped the other around her waist. She copied his movements, and allowed him to guide her around the room. She couldn’t think about enjoying herself, she was thinking about where to put her feet so she didn’t stand on his own. So many people would be watching her at this moment, so she couldn’t mess up. She was forever thankful for the lessons that Skye had given her all those months ago, for when she had to dance at her mother’s 50th.

Eventually, the music stopped, and Jemma thanked Will, but looking more at where Skye and Hunter were standing over his shoulder. He nodded and she smiled once again. She walked past him, and started making her way towards her two friends when she heard a voice behind her.

“Jemma!”

She spun, wondering what was happening, when she saw Will on one knee on the ground. The entire room was silent.

Jemma felt her stomach drop, she stood there feeling the world slowing down, slightly tilting to the left. He was proposing to her. Right here, right now. In front of everyone. And she knew that this was all Malick’s doing. He made Will propose to her in front of everyone. That way she couldn’t say no without making everything and everyone look bad.

“Will you marry me?” Will asked, knocking her out of her thoughts. He had obviously been saying something before this, something that she hadn’t heard because she was so lost in her thoughts.

She stared at him, unable to move, unable to say anything. He had just proposed to her. She had to say yes. She was going to get married to someone that she didn’t love. She was going to have to marry him, move away from the kingdom that she had always called home. She wouldn’t be able to help her kingdom. Everything she had worked towards would be lost.

Everyone was staring at her, expecting her to say yes, expecting her to answer. She couldn’t find her voice, she stammered her over her words.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say, her voice soft and breaking. She was so close to tears but she couldn’t cry. Not here, not in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

And then she ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That ending was intentional, all shall be revealed soon and there is so much more of this to come!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter two, focusing more on Fitz than the events on the last chapter, but fear not, in chapter three, you will find out more about what has happened to Jemma! Thank for all the support on the last chapter!

Leopold Fitz, or Fitz, as he more commonly went by opened up the document again. It had been posted online, on the website of The International Association of Science and Related Interests, asking for someone, preferably skilled in a form engineering. Which Fitz was, had a doctorate in it. But yet, he still hadn’t applied. It had been posted by Jemma Simmons, someone he had wanted to work with for so many years now, but now he had a chance he was scared to. Something about the job kept putting him of, something about it made him feel nervous. What if he wasn’t good enough? What if he wasn’t able to help her help her kingdom?

He closed the document, before opening it again. The he closed it again, before finally opening it.

“Still having difficulty deciding if you should go for it?” asked a voice from behind him. Radcliffe. His adoptive father, really the only family had ever know.

Fitz looked up from his computer. Radcliffe had been encouraging him for the past couple of weeks, ever since it had appeared online to apply for it, that what could be the worst that could happen. But Fitz had always dismissed him, replying that he wasn’t good enough. And what would Jemma Simmons ever see in him? She was Jemma Simmons, she had two doctorates, masters in both politics and economics. And she was also a princess, destined to inherit Chitauri, a small island nation that was just of the South Coast of England with just about 2.5 million inhabitants.

And who was he compared to her?

“It’s still up then I take it?” Radcliffe asked, knocking Fitz from his thoughts.

“The ad? Yeah, it’s still up. Thought she would have gotten a lot of requests by now. It’s been up weeks.”

“Then apply,” Radcliffe said just before his phone rang. “Listen, I’ve got to take this but you should. Be a great opportunity.” And with that he was gone.

Fitz turned his attention back to the document that was on screen and sighed, opening up a web browser, and typed in the web address. And once he was directed to that page, he clicked on _Apply Now_ before he could think any better of it.

***

It was early in the next morning when his phone started vibrating. He groaned in frustration, hating the fact that someone had woken him up early for this. This was one of his few days off from the lab, and he was looking forward to a lie in.

He rolled over, hoping that this was just an exception and they would leave him alone if he just ignored them.

Unfortunately, this did not happen, and despite the fact that he was now covering his head with the pillow, the phone continued to vibrate, and slide across the wooden beside table.

He reached over, scrabbling for it and managed to find it, on the very edge, one more vibration threatening to send it plummeting to the ground.

Unlocking his phone he found that he had multiple text messages from his friend, Mack. Fitz scrolled back, looking through them all, all of which dated back from last night.

_From Mack [23:12]: Turbo! Radcliffe told me you finally applied. Keep me updated?_

Fitz groaned, he regretted telling Radcliffe late last night that he had applied for the job. Now everyone in the lab would know, and be expecting details.

_From Mack [00:17]: I know you’re probably asleep right now but check Facebook as soon as you get this._

_From Mack [01:12]: Turbo, I really recommend that you check this out._

_From Mack [01:23]: It’s important._

Fitz felt his heart start to hammer slightly harder, and panic started to settle in. Had something happened last night? Something serious?

_From Mack [02:01]: It’s all over Facebook, will be for the next while…_

_From Mack [02:12]: Listen Turbo… It’s about her…._

_From Mack [02:21]: Jemma Simmons._

There were no more, meaning that Mack must have fallen asleep at that point.

His phone vibrated again and he opened up his messages app again, and then it clicked into place. His phone hadn’t been vibrating because of Mack’s texts (if it had, it would have been vibrating through the night, and anyway, he had his phone on do not disturb mode until this hour, when he normally would be waking up for work) but his news app was reporting breaking news.

Fitz felt the knot of dread in his stomach. Had something happened to her during the night? He dreaded to think of it. He read all her work, followed it, even though their fields were nothing alike, it was some of the most interesting work he had ever read, and there was nothing like it in the world.

He took a shuddering breath, and looked at the screen again. He had a number of notifications from the news app, probably the breaking news that was causing all the vibrations (he really had to turn that off, it was annoying) and opened it up, deciding that the news websites were probably more reliable than Facebook at this given moment in time.

Once it had loaded, he could see that she was the headline article, and the ones that had followed. He bit his lip anxiously. This could not be good if she was taking up most of the main page.

He finally took in the headline

** “Princess Jemma Simmons runs away from Prince Will on her engagement night!” **

Fitz stared at the headline in shock, and the picture that was with it. It seemed that a member of the press had taken it mid run; she was trying to cover her face, but it wasn’t working, tears streaked down her face, her hair falling in loose curls.

Clicking on the article only expanded the picture, and there was another woman chasing after her, Skye, Fitz could only presume. They were always seen in pictures together. She was chasing after Jemma, maybe going to comfort her.

Fitz skimmed through the article, picking up on bits of information. It seemed that there had been a ball, organised by Will’s father, Malick, who was the king of Maveth (another island nation) and hoped that Jemma would wed his son.

Everyone knew that had been going on for years now. Chitauri had been facing severe economic crisis, due to an illness that was spreading. Jemma had been trying to help but nothing had been working so Malick had promised money if his son could marry her. Enough money to help the kingdom.

But long term, the money wasn’t going to help. If they couldn’t help their population, they couldn’t help their economy.

After reading a couple more articles, he couldn’t read anymore. They were portraying Jemma as the villain here, from running away from him, saying that she was putting her kingdom at risk. They weren’t seeing her side of this. It made him sick.

Locking his phone, he got out of bed and made his way to bathroom.

***

He had spent all day in the library, looking through scientific journals and old newspapers. Even though it was now highly unlikely that Jemma would reply, he still decided to research what was affecting her country.

However, there was hardly any information on it. No one seemed to know where it came from, what had caused it. All that seemed to be known was the effects of the illness. There wasn’t even a name for it.

So after that, he moved on to the history, especially in regards to Maveth. The two nations had had a bloody past, and it was only within the last number of decades there had been peace between the two nations.

It was a different way to pass the afternoon, and he somewhat enjoyed it. And it wasn’t until a text alert from Mack brought him back to the real world.

_From Mack [17:45]: Do you want to go to The Playground tonight?_

_From Fitz [17:47]: What time?_

_From Mack [17:50]: I’m done with Radcliffe and will pick you up in about fifteen?_

_From Fitz [17:52]: I’m at library, meet you there?_

_From Mack [17:56]: See you there Turbo_

Fitz stood up and started to put away all the articles and journals that littered the desk that he had been working on, before leaving the library and heading down the road and around the corner to The Playground.

***

The Playground was the local pub that Mack and Fitz both frequently visited. They hadn’t been there for a while now however, Radcliffe both over-working them the past few weeks. There was a massive exhibition in London in a few weeks, and he wanted both of them there.

“So, what do you think of the news?” Mack asked, as he brought the first round to the table (could it really be a round if there were two people?) and Fitz accepted the pint with a nod of his head.

Fitz thought long and hard about his reply. “It’s crazy. All that hates she’s getting.” Fitz shuddered. “I couldn’t imagine having all that publicity,”

Mack looked at him, frowning. “Weren’t you the one to get a PhD in engineering at the age of sixteen?”

Fitz shrugged. “But I don’t have two masters, a second PhD and I’m not a prince.”

Mack laughed at this. And discussion soon turned to different matters.

***

They left the bar earlier than expected, some sporting event being shown. Neither could drive home (Mack had decided to take a bus instead so that he would be able to have a few drinks) so the taxi was the next best option, though not the cheapest.

Making his way into his apartment, Fitz turned his laptop on, and while it was loading, he made himself a plate of pasta, nothing to big but something to fill him up. Mack was always joking about his love for food, and this was a prime example of it. They had gotten a plate of chips when they had been out but he was still hungry.

Setting the plate down next to the laptop, he slid onto his chair when he noticed that he had an email.

He stared at the icon for a few minutes before clicking to open it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just what was that mysterious email? And who wrote it? All shall be revealed soon, thanks for reading this chapter. I hope that you enjoyed this!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally got this chapter written. Plot just wasn't working for me, but it is finally here. I hope you enjoy and many thanks for the support.

Skye had managed to catch up with Jemma, and now they were lying on her bed, Jemma still in her dress, her hair now a mess. She was still crying, and Skye was trying her best to calm her, to reassure her, but she didn’t know what to say. What to do in this situation. She had spent more than enough time in the presence of royalty to know what would happen next.

Jemma would be harassed by the media, portrayed as the villain. Then she would have to accept the proposal, there wasn’t any chance of her being saying no now. A public apology, or an announcement of sorts would occur, in which she would accept Will as her future husband, where she would say just how excited she was for the future and what it would hold.

Then planning for a royal wedding would begin, the castle alive with all the hustle and bustle as preparation took place.  

Skye looked at her friend, and wondered how much longer they had together. Skye knew Jemma would have to leave this place that she called home, this place where they had so many memories. The place where they grew up together.

She knew Jemma would have to move Maveth, a place that she hated so very much. She had spent a period of time there when she was younger, and she had come back close to tears, begging her father never to let her go there again.

“Skye! Jemma!” There was a voice at the door, followed by knocking. “Open up.”

Jemma didn’t make a move to open the door, in fact she drew in on herself even more. If she recognised the voice, she obviously didn’t show it.

“Hunter?” Skye asked, making her way to the door. She opened it ever so slightly and saw that Hunter was standing there, a bag in his hand. His suit was a mess, shirt untucked and his tie no longer pristine.

“How is she?” his voice dropped to a whisper. He couldn’t see her from the way that Skye was holding the door.

Skye glanced over her shoulder. Jemma was still lying there. She shrugged. She had no words for it. Everyone knew it was bad, and that this would last for a number of days before being resolved. Or weeks if the trashy magazines couldn’t find anything else more important to report on.

“Here,” Hunter said, shoving the bag to Skye. “I can’t stay long. Bobs needs help downstairs but since you guys never got to eat…”

And that’s when Skye realised what the bag was. It was from _Starks._ The local chip shop. Hunter had went out of his way to get them something to eat.

“Couldn’t have gone to _Rogers_?”

Hunter frowned at her. “Do you know how hard it is to get chips at like ten at night?”

Skye shrugged before smiling up at him. “Hunter, you’re amazing. I owe you one.”

Hunter waved her off, knowing she was kidding about _Rogers._ That they may have been her favourite, but Jemma’s was _Starks_ , and at this point Jemma was the primary concern. “It’s nothing. Enjoy. And I’ll try to keep them away from here.”

Skye nodded, knowing who they were. The press, lurking about the castle, wanting the exclusive, to be the first to report this. She closed the door and listened to Hunter’s footsteps recede down the corridor.

“Jemma,” she said, making her way to the bed. There was still no movement from Jemma. Skye looked at her friend with pity. She felt so sorry for her, after all that she had been through. And not just tonight. It wasn’t easy, her life.

She did look up at Skye however when Skye sat on the bed and started rustling in the bag, and handed her a brown papered package. Her eyes were red, tears still streaking down her face, bringing what little make up she was wearing with them.

“Hunter brought us them.”

Jemma gave an uneasy smile at this, and started to open it. Chips. She looked back up at Skye, now sitting cross legged on the bed, already stuffing her face. “From _Starks_ ,” she said through a mouth full of potato. “Hunter knows you love the place.”

Jemma sat up fully now, and mirrored her friend’s positon. “I got an email.”

Skye looked at her wondering where this had come from, and what this email meant. Who it was from? Was it from some journalist? Someone who wanted to get the fresh news from Princess Jemma Simmons? And how had they manage to contact her so quickly?

Seeing the look of fear on her friend’s face, Jemma clarified. “About the ad I put out, looking for help. With the job”

Skye breathed a sigh of relief, and immediately felt guilty.

“Are you worried?” Jemma asked.

A nod from Skye. “Jems, you know what’s going to happen next, don’t you?”

Jemma didn’t reply, just shifted restless on the bed and sent ripples through her dress.

“I just don’t want a repeat of last time,” Skye said, treading carefully, worried that she would upset Jemma even more than she was already.

Jemma dipped her head, bit her lip. Skye started to apologise, but Jemma simply shook her head. There was no need for Skye to apologise, she knew everything that had been said last time, there had been no hiding from it. “I know,” was all Jemma could say. “But the email wasn’t any of that. It was someone, replying to me. Wanting to work with me. And it came this morning, hours before any of this happened.”

“Do you know them?” Skye asked.

Jemma nodded, and felt her cheeks go red. Skye saw the blush and immediately knew how she was talking about. All you had to do was mention his name around her and the blushing would begin. “It’s him, isn’t it?” Skye asked, and again Jemma nodded. “What are you going to do about it?”

Jemma shrugged, not really knowing what she was going to do. He had expressed interest, was the only one who had done so. But she was nervous too. What if he didn’t like her? What if her work wasn’t something that had interested him? What if they didn’t get on?

Skye must have seen these thoughts pass through her mind, and reached out to take Jemma’s hand. “Hey. You should do this. Everyone knows how much you love his work.” _And him_ , she thought. “It would be such a great opportunity for both of you. And…” She paused as though to add drama. “You can be FitzSimmons. Like partners in crime. Except, you know, in science.”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Ugh, Skye. We’re not married.”

Skye just laughed, stuffing another chip in her mouth, glad that she could make her friend smile even for a little while.

***

The next day, Jemma spent most of her time avoiding the Internet in general, knowing that it wouldn’t end well.

Skye, Bobbi and Hunter had been in and out all day, as well as her parents, checking how she was. She said she was fine, but she wasn’t. And she knew that they could see through her lies. But she didn’t mind. And anyway, there were all too busy dealing with the aftermath of yesterday.

She had spent all day drafting her email, her reply to him. To Dr. Leopold Fitz. But she couldn’t seem to perfect it. So many pages of her notebook now littered the ground and her bed, failed drafts that were either far too formal or far too casual. At one point, she sounded far too much like an obsessed teenage girl.

That one was scrapped immediately and hidden at the bottom of her bin, hopefully never to see the light of day.

It was approaching seven, and she hadn’t gotten anywhere when she gave a cry of frustration and threw yet another ball of paper across the room.

“Alright Princess?” a voice asked. Hunter. She turned to face him, and saw that he was bringing in something for her to eat. It was only then that she realised that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. He set the plate down on her bedside table, and kicked at one of the ball of paper. “Trying out for the basketball team?”

Jemma shook her head. “I got an application.”

“Oh?”

“Dr. Leopold Fitz.”

“That’s the one who you like, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I can’t write this email, saying that I want him to work here, that I’ve accepted his offer. They all sound too formal, or too casual. It’s just not working.”

“Want some advice?” Jemma nodded at Hunter’s question. Though he never always gave the best advice, there were some words of wisdom that could be learnt from Lance Hunter. “You’re thinking about it too hard. Just let it come naturally.”

And with that, he left.

***

After his advice, Jemma had written the email just under an hour later, and she decided that she wasn’t going to do any better than that. She re-read it again, checking for any mistakes that may have escaped her watchful eye.

_Hello Dr. Fitz_

_I want to thank you for taking an interest in the job that I have advertised online and I would be more than happy to work with you on this project. In fact, it would be a pleasure, having admired your work for many years now. I can’t think of anyone more suited for the position than you._

_If you are still interested in this position, please feel free to reply to this email, with the dates that best suit you and I shall be able to accommodate you with flights and a place to stay. You can also bring someone if you wish._

_Hoping you are well and best wishes_

_Dr. Jemma Simmons._

Closing her eyes, she hit send.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part where Jemma and Skye sit and eat chips is based loosely around something similar to me, except I was on the phone. I did have to leave a fancy school dance event early, and ended up getting chips on the way home so I thought, why not put it into here. Many thanks for reading, I hope that you enjoyed this next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in posting this, I couldn't get the chapter how I wanted it but now, finally, it is done. Hope you enjoy this next part!

Fitz read the email.

Then re-read the email.

Then read it one more time just to be sure that he wasn’t imagining things.

She has said yes.

Yes.

Y.

E.

S.

Yes.

She wanted him to work with her.

She wanted his help.

Fitz blinked a number of times, trying to take in this new information.

Then he reached for his phone, texting both Mack and Radcliffe.

It didn’t take long for Radcliffe to reply, saying that he could take all the time off that he needed, that he would gladly take them to the airport that minute (Fitz stared at the message, he had asked Mack to go with him, and at this point, Mack hadn’t even said that he could go yet and here was his dad, already trying to ship him off).

Heck, he hadn’t even replied to Jemma yet.

But he could go.

He _wanted_ to go.

Taking a mouthful of his meal, he clicked reply.

***

He was to go that weekend, and immediately regretted not giving himself enough time to pack, wondering what he would even need to bring with him.

He knew to bring clothes, that was a given.

Notes; they were all coming with him.

But tools, equipment… he wasn’t sure.

Lying on his bed, he let out a groan of frustration.

“You okay Turbo?” Mack asked, sticking his head around the doorframe, wooden spoon in hand and covered in tomato sauce.

Fitz sat up, looking at his friend. “Yeah, it’s just that… I have no clue what to bring with me… with us when we go…”

“Email her.” Mack cut in his rambling and Fitz stared at him, as though he were a problem that he needed to work out. Fitz _had_ been emailing her of the past number of days, asking about the arrangements, learning more about her work, and her as a person and something similar to a friendship had formed between the two of them.

“Email. Her.” Fitz said the words aloud then shook his head, cursing himself and reaching for the phone, wondering how he could ever be so stupid and not have thought of that earlier.

***

The car ride to the airport that weekend was somewhat awkward, Radcliffe rambling on and on about his son was finally going to be able to meet his idol, to be able to work with the woman that he admired (both as a person, and for her work), and how he was going to help change the world.

With each sentence, Fitz found himself sinking lower and lower into his seat, wishing that the world would just swallow him whole at this point.

What made matters worse was that Mack was joining in, knowing that it would annoy Fitz.

The drive continued on, Fitz feeling his ears burn red with embarrassment as his father and his friend discussed him and Jemma.

He hadn’t even met her yet, and they were already discussing names for their potential children (and anyway, Jemma was to marry Will. It’s not like he had a chance anyway. Why would she chose him over Will, an actual prince?).

Finally, they reached the airport, and for that Fitz couldn’t be more grateful. He was so glad once he was able to bid Radcliffe farewell.

As he and Mack pulled their suitcases into the airport a voice called out from behind them; “Don’t forget to use protection!”

Fitz didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many apologies again for the delay, and the short chapter, the following ones should be longer! Thanks for checking out!

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted a modern royalty AU for ages now and thanks to some prompting, it is a reality! Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!


End file.
